Till No Pain Is Felt
by Outreach117
Summary: Explains the backstory of two very iconic characters in the games that while get a fair bit of screen time, we know very little about who they are and where they come from.  M for language and suggestive themes.  R&R, you know you want to!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N-Had this one bouncing around in my brain for the past...I dunno but it's been a long time. Finally felt motivated to put this story down after a dream I had recently about the beloved doctor of the _Normandy_, a character I feel that has an opportunity for so much development and is so underutilized IMHO. I felt that it would be good to fill in a bit about her, and her past with Joker, make it a bit deeper. Bioware, I don't own any of this, you do. But if you're reading, I hope the good doctor gets a bit more screen time come next March!-Outreach117_

_November 7th, 2185 SSV Normandy, Local Cluster_

Doctor Caroline Chakwas stared at her half empty bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy and turned her now empty glass around in her hand, contemplating another refill. Alcohol had long since overtaken her senses, and the world seemed to spin and roll, but did little to dull the pain she felt. Barely 24 hours ago she had come mere seconds away from becoming reaper chow and an exceptionally gruesome and painful death. Now, back aboard the Normandy and with sickbay ominously empty and quiet, she was left with only her thoughts. Not only a few hours before had everything been abuzz with activity, Shepard and his team needing treatment for their wounds, and the surviving crew badly dehydrated and malnourished from being kept in those stasis pods for several days.

Mordin, the eccentric salarian genius had handled most of the severe injuries up on deck 2 in the lab, converting his research station into a makeshift triage. Jacob, Miranda and Samara had all become doctors assistants right on the spot, the three having various levels of experience in first aid and medicine. Fortunately the worst injury to be had were some broken ribs that Garrus received, although the stout turian probably had his pride wounded more than anything else. All in all though the trip through the Omega 4 relay had gone off almost perfectly. By another miracle in what was a chain of miracles the entire team had survived and the majority of the crew made it out in one piece, and the collector base was nothing more than bits and pieces and to quote Urdnot Wrex, "nothing bigger than a turian's right nut."

By all accounts Ken and Gabby were back down in the bowels of engineering, probably in the middle of a rather passionate lip-lock session. Almost immediately after the Normandy had jumped out of the galactic core and in to the relative safety that was Omega, Ken had dropped down to one knee in front of God, Gabby and the entire bloody crew and proposed right there on the spot in the middle of the hangar bay. Gabby, for her part, was rather gracious in her acceptance and the whole debacle provided some much needed comic relief from the hell for what should have been a suicide mission. Kelly Chambers, in her glib and bubbly happy manner had already volunteered to be the wedding planner, and Shepard whose grace and generosity knew no bounds, had also agreed to officiate the wedding as was his right as ship's captain.

Now all the reverie and excitement of a job well done and escape was crashing down, and the doctor had gotten a _bad_ case of the shakes. Slamming the glass down in resolution, Doctor Chakwas mumbled a slight, "fuck it," and started drinking her brandy by the bubble. The liquid fire that ran down her throat, however, felt like a soothing balm compared to what she felt deep in her chest. Slamming the bottle back on her desk, Caroline closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair feeling her senses dull even further.

"One shot every fifteen minutes or until no pain is felt, eh?" Came a deep, gruff voice that belonged to a certain Mess Sergeant Gardner. The doctor lazily swiveled her chair to face the new visitor to sickbay.

Smiling slightly and with a bit of a slurred speech Chakwas replied, "I'm not sure if there's enough booze in the entire Terminus, hell, the Milky Way, to fill that prescription, Rupert." The doctor and mess sergeant had developed a rather close friendship in the past several months working together aboard the Normandy. One was sophisticated and booksmart, the other streetsmart and rough around the edges, yet they got along surprisingly well together, seeing as how their respective "offices" were directly adjacent. Usually they lunched together two to three times a week, and Rupert consistently kept the extra dark coffee going for the poor doctor whenever she found herself pulling extra long hours in the infirmary.

Rupert smiled and pulled up a chair while the doctor offered him the bottle of brandy. Taking a long pull of the potent liquor, Rupert coughed and patted his chest, feeling the same burn that Caroline did. "Damn doc, that's some strong booze," he remarked, still struggling for air. Caroline let out a rather girly giggle from Rupert's almost comic response to the alcohol as he passed the bottle back, her inhibitions at a lower level courtesy of the brandy.

"Serrice Ice Brandy, 141 proof. Good for cleaning engine parts, getting totally wasted, or small scale flamethrowers in conjunction with a lighter," the doctor remarked matter-of-factly as she kicked back another bubble from the bottle.

Rupert smiled as she passed the bottle back to him and took another swig, this time the brandy went down more smoothly and managed to keep his composure. "So, what's on your mind, Caroline?" He asked as he passed the bottle back to her.

"Just thinking about stuff is all," she half-lied as she eyed the bottle that was getting dangerously low. "All this suicide mission stuff and a near brush with death, tends to make you reflect on your life and past." Knocking back another sip from the bottle, she dropped the now empty flask on her desk. "And I'm out of my medicine. Bloody terrific," she remarked with a slightly exasperated and slurred tone.

Rupert merely smiled and reached into his utility pocket on the left leg of his trousers and produced a yet unopened bottle of Southern Comfort. "Don't worry ma'am, got your refill right here. Fresh from the great city of New Orleans." Rupert gave a wide smile as he peeled away the lid and plastic opening. Tipping the now opened bottle back, Rupert took a deep chug of the southern bourbon, tasting the strong flavors and hint of caramel that made the liquor unique. "Here, have a slight taste of home."

The doctor smiled as she accepted the offered bottle. She knew Rupert was an earthborn and hailed from Louisiana, and wasn't that surprised to find that he had squirreled away the alcohol. Taking a curious sip of the different booze, her face turned to a smile as the new flavors flooded her senses. "But yes, Rupert, thinking about where I've been, what I've done, and where I'm going to end up," she lazily offered the bottle of SoCo back to her companion.

"Well doc, out of those three things two are already written in stone, the other has yet to be even written down," Rupert remarked and took another pull from his bottle.

"You're right, dear. You're so very right." Chakwas the leaned far back in her chair and stared at the ceiling, her mind drifting even further as the alcohol mixed in her system.

"So?" Rupert looked at her expectantly.

"So what?" She replied.

"So, are you gonna spin your tale or not?" He smiled as he swirled the contents of the bottle around in his hand.

Doctor Chakwas leveled her head and looked the gruff man in the eye, a smile spreading to her face. "Only if you pass that bloody good bottle of medicine back over." The bottle soon found itself resting quite comfortably in Caroline Chakwas's hands.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Well…..I just finished Mass Effect 3. SPOILER ALERT: I have seen 3__rd__ degree burns that have charred less than the ending "choices" from that game. Feeling exceptionally depressed about the outcome, so here I am trying to do something that will cheer me up. Fortunately, the events of Mass Effect 3 are inconsequential for this story as it takes place between 2 and 3. If you're one of the many fans like me though, I share your pain. If you haven't finished the game and are still in ignorant bliss, I envy you. –Outreach117_

_March 6__th__, 2175 Arcturus Station, Euler System_

"Caroline….Caroline would you pay attention for once?" The voice of Doctor Elizabeth Moreau invaded her thoughts for the second time in as many minutes.

"Mmm, oh, I'm sorry my dear. I was….distracted." Caroline sheepishly admitted as she swirled the glass of brandy that was now half-full and glanced over at her dear friend since childhood. In truth, Chakwas had been trying to focus, but the mixture of alcohol and abundance of Alliance marines at the small bar they sat in had kept her attention split.

"Uh-huh. Which hunk were you checking out this time?" Elizabeth gently teased Caroline as she knocked back another shot of tequila. "Let me guess, that N6 guy over there. A fine piece of work he is….but a bit under your age bracket don't you think? What's his name, Shepard? Great ass, I'll give him that."

Caroline grimaced at the comment. Yes, she had been in fact looking over and admiring the fine specimen of the human species that was the N6 marine Shepard, and she did have to admit he had wonderful assets, despite being about 30 years her junior. "Oh, he's certainly something to look at, but I like my men mature and refined as well as strong and endowed," Caroline nonchalantly commented as she took another sip of her brandy.

"Riiiiight then. Well, what about him?" Elizabeth chucked a thumb over her shoulder at another Alliance officer apparently in his late 40's and lacking a ring on his finger.

"Oh come on now Liz, do we have to keep checking out men every time we go out for a drink? I don't recall my love life being public discussion," Caroline's features dropping slightly. "So how is Jeffrey? I haven't seen him in some time. "

Elizabeth sobered up a bit at that question, her only son that she had raised alone on the station for the past 20 years. His father had passed some years back, Herbert Moreau having died only in his 50's from a heart attack. He had been a solid man and a resolute Alliance marine, and had often joked that the Alliance was his second wife, but he had loved Elizabeth more. "He is well, life on the station was never for easy for him, especially now that he's becoming a man and beginning to notice girls. Not much to choose from to boot, and you know there has always been a stigma about his condition."

Caroline nodded soberly at that. Jeffrey Moreau had been teased and harassed incessantly throughout school, and not having a father or even a sibling had been very difficult on the young man. His mother, also being constantly absent out on patrols as an Alliance doctor, and later a civilian contractor, had only exacerbated the situation. "Well, looking around I can say the selection for the other side leaves something to be desired. Too much testosterone in here." Elizabeth chuckled in agreement, and Caroline leaned forward, a conspiratorial grin on her face.

"You know, we could always create that miracle youth drug and then he could marry me," her grin not wavering as she sipped her brandy again. Caroline had actually known Jeff since before he was born, literally. Caroline had been Elizabeth's attending physician during her pregnancy, and was the delivery room doctor on the day he was born. When Herbert had passed away when Jeff was only 4, "Auntie Caroline" as he had called her, was the closest family present as Elizabeth had been on deployment at the time. She remembered many nights cradling the young boy, eyes wet with tears, as he fell asleep asking for when his mother was going to be home.

Traumatic as the event had been, it had brought the three so close that the casual observer could even be forgiven to think that the two Doctors were a married couple, and that Jeff was their adopted son. The joke about Caroline and Jeff marrying was a result of a humorous event at Jeff's 8th birthday party when Elizabeth had asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday. Jeff had stood straight up, embraced Caroline in a hug and showered her with kisses stating that he wanted to marry "Auntie Caroline." The name and joke had stuck, providing more than a few occasions of embarrassment and humor at appropriate times.

Elizabeth waived a hand dismissively, "Oh c'mon Caroline, I think he sees you more as a mother."

"Exactly! He could be my little sugar bear," Caroline replied as she finished the contents of the brandy.

"Pfft, not likely. Besides, we have more pressing concerns. Namely that Alliance marine I mentioned earlier."

A long shadow formed over the table from the tall and the handsome 40-something man that Elizabeth had pointed out earlier smiled and winked at Caroline. She winked back.

_The Present, SSV Normandy Medical Office_

"So that is the basics on how Jeff and I met, Rupert." Caroline noted her speech was slurring slightly, the SoCo starting to take effect.

"So who was the 40-something that you mentioned? Still with him?" Rupert replied, taking another sip of the sweet liquor.

Caroline looked down at her feet, her expression somber. "No."

"I don't suppose you'll be giving any details?"

"Maybe." A smile playing across her face as she stood up, a certain gleam in her eye.

"Oh? Well what do I have to do to earn those details?" Rupert grinned back, a conspiratorial look coming across his face.

"Just be a good patient and follow direction," Caroline replied as she casually drew the curtains and locked the door.

Rupert cocked his head sideways, realization dawning. "Are we doing what I think we are about to do?"

Chakwas sauntered up to him, placing a hand on his chest as she pushed him onto the examination table. "Yes."

"I have to admit, I've never done this before."

"Really, well then Rupert, it's a good thing I have."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Thank God." And they sank down on the table as Caroline's mouth descended toward its prey.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Still not recovered, and nowhere near sleepy enough to go to bed yet….so I guess I'll do some more therapy. Arin, this one's for you too, and I hope it brings some smiles.–Outreach117_

_Arcturus Station, Medical Wing, March 6__th__ 2176_

"Oh God, that was amazing," Peter McDade huffed as he collapsed against the examination table in the deserted and unused hospital wing of Arcturus Station. Next to him, also recovering from post climax euphoria curled the naked shape of Caroline Chakwas. While in her early 40's, a few wrinkles and gray starting to appear at her temples, she was still the spitting image of beauty.

"You weren't too bad yourself Peter," she calmly replied nuzzling up to him.

Peter wrapped a well-muscled arm around his lover and leaned in close to kiss her on the forehead and whispered softly. "I feel like the luckiest man in the galaxy. Here we are, almost a year old and still going strong, having white hot sex like a couple of mischievous teens hoping they don't get busted by their parents. Did I ever tell you how much of a little minx you are?"

Caroline sighed contently against him, "on many occasions, yes dear."

"And also how much I love you?"

"once or twice."

"And that I never thought this would happen when I walked up to you in that bar a year ago?"

"You have mentioned it now and again, yes." Caroline smiled and kissed him again.

"Happy anniversary, although I really don't think I have any present that could quite match this," Peter motioned at the sterile treatment room the pair had commandeered. "This is totally wrong, and I am totally ok with that," he said, smiling again as he got up and pulled his briefs into place.

"Oh, done and finished with me already? Mr. McDade, as your Doctor I order your butt back to bed," Caroline sat up and watched Peter pull his trousers on.

Leaning in for a kiss, he placed a finger on her lips, "In a moment ma'am. I have something I need to tell you."

"If it's about your departure on the _SSV Baltimore_ for Elysium, don't bother." Caroline deadpanned, the mood effectively killed.

"How…how did…." Peter found himself stuttering.

"Elizabeth told me. I understand you and her are even going to be on the same ground team together," Caroline neatly folded her hands on her stomach as she stared at Peter expectantly.

"She did? I, um….well I _was_ going to tell you," Peter appeared almost sheepish as he pulled his N7 shirt on.

Caroline propped herself up on one elbow. "Really?"

"Really. But, when I felt it was appropriate because there is something I wanted to ask you." Peter now looked almost nervous to Caroline, and N7 marines didn't just get anxious for no reason.

"Oh, and what might that be?"

Peter reached into his cargo pants pocket and produced a small black velvet box, a smile forming on his face as he went to one knee in front of Caroline. Slowly opening the box, a platinum ring sat, a very large diamond crested on top.

_Oh God, is it…..is he going to?_

"Caroline Chakwas. From the day I met you, I have always been enamored by your grace, your beauty, your intelligence, your steady hands and unwavering resolve. My darling, will you marry me?"

Caroline felt her heart accelerating faster than a starship in FTL flight, her eyes going between the proffered ring and the handsome man who held it, possibilities racing through her mind. _Is he the right one? Is he the one for me? I'm over 40 years old, a late bloomer by all standards. Am I doing this just because I'm desperate, or is he really 'The One'? What about children? I always wanted children. Is it too late? _

Peter seemed to sense her hesitation, his hands shaking slightly as his nerves started to take over, the ominous silence as thick as oil. He sucked in a deep breath as Caroline opened her mouth to speak, her jaw opened and closed as if talking but no words came out.

"Honey, say something," Peter pleaded.

His answer came shortly after as Caroline bolted from the bed and dove into his arms, her mouth showering him with kisses. Between sobs of joy, he could have sworn he heard her say, "Oh, God, yes. I need you."

A real shame it wasn't destined to last.

_Present_

"Oh God, I needed that." Caroline spoke rather nonchalantly as she pulled her SR-2 uniform back into place. Looking sideways she could see Rupert doing the same with his Cerberus jumpsuit, a smile across his face.

"Well Doc, that was….different," as he leaned in and kissed her on the lips.

"Yes, well near death experiences combined with alcohol have a way of stripping away any inhibitions."

Rupert looked hurt at her comment, and it showed on his face. "Oh, I'm sorry Rupert….it's just, well….I don't usually let anyone get that close to me."

Rupert put an ample arm around her waist and kissed her neck gently. "Why? What happened?"

Caroline just formed a rather blank expression as she stared at the opposite wall, a torrent of emotions long thought dead came back, and her mouth uttered two words that anyone in the Alliance knew. "The Blitz."

_Elysium City, Skyllian Verge, April 13__th__, 2176 _

"Dammit Shepard, get your ass back up here!" McDade shouted at the junior N6 marine, although "Junior" was probably not the right term. Any marine of the N-Series SpecWar program was a highly trained and competent combatant. The only real difference was that N7 could only be achieved through being an N6, and having seen extended combat. Given the events of late, however, he had no doubt that the young lieutenant would have earned the rank several times over before the week was out.

"Aye, Major!" Came Shepard's reply as he used copious amounts of gunfire to drop another batarian slaver while running from cover to cover amongst the blasted cityscape.

"Shepard, we are being overrun. There are civilian refugees in those buildings over there," the Major motioned towards a series of prefabricated shacks about half a kilometer across the ravaged countryside. "You are to take what's left of Dagger and Sabre squads, secure and hold those buildings until evac arrives. I will hold the batarians off here."

Shepard eyed the Major, a knowing look on his face. "Sir, with respect you won't survive another assault," and motioned towards two bleeding holes in the front chestplate of Peter's armor. "You're wounded, running low on thermal clips, and not to mention outnumbered about 20 to one!"

Peter looked down at the young N6 Alliance marine, his face somber. "Boy, I've been killing slaver and pirate scum for more years than you've existed. I might be dinged up a bit bu-"

"A ruptured spleen, punctured lung, three broken ribs and losing almost a quart of blood Mr. McDade. That's more than being just 'dinged up a bit'." Elizabeth Moreau low crawled up next to the Major, her omni-tool humming a bright yellow as she scanned his wounds. "If I don't plug these wounds with medi-gel soon, you're going to bleed out."

Peter inwardly groaned. He knew full well Elizabeth Moreau was just as stubborn as Caroline, and if he didn't give in to her demands for treatment, she would have no compunctions against ordering him to triage. "All right doc, you win," Peter commented, clearly deflated. "Shepard, you're still moving your ass out." The major eyed the young lieutenant as Elizabeth kneeled in front of him to start tending his wounds.

"But, Sir we-"

"Don't you 'But, Sir' me, boy. Move your ass out, that's an order marine!" Peter bellowed at Shepard, wincing as the doctor applied the medi-gel.

"Keep still, Peter! I can't seal the wounds if you'r-" _SPLAT!_ Elizabeth never finished her sentence as her brains were scattered all over Peter's hardsuit from the rapidly entering and exiting sniper round of a batarian pirate.

"Fuck! Shepard, get the hell out of here now! Protect those civilians!" Peter pulled his Mattock heavy rifle and opened fire at the perch of rubble approximately a hundred yards away where the shot rang from.

"Negative, Sir. You'll have to court-martial me. I'm not leaving you here to die," Shepard flatly replied, taking cover and drawing his own Mattock.

A feral growl escaped the senior N7 marine's lips as he drew his Carnifex hand cannon and leveled the barrel at Shepard's face. "Get. Moving. Now. Protect those people or I'll put you down right here. Do your fucking duty, Lieutenant." Grabbing his tags and yanking Elizabeth's free from her bloodied neck, he tossed them to Shepard who caught them one-handed. "Tell Caroline Chakwas that I'm sorry that I won't be home for dinner." He then turned away from Shepard and kept firing at the advancing pirate mercs.

Shepard, wisely deciding not to call the senior marine's bluff, wormed his way out of the dug in foxhole, and motioning toward the remaining N-series marines, took off at a shuffle pace towards the civilian structures. Peter watched him and the remaining marines go, a hard look on his face as he turned back towards a squad of Blue Suns and Eclipse mercs, a smile on his face. "My turn. Come and take me if you dare, you piss-ant sons of bitches…."

Hours later, Alliance reinforcement squads recovered the badly mutilated body of Major Peter McDade, having been shot multiple times, stabbed and then his body dismembered by a vorcha pack. Around the remains lay scattered over 80 enemy casualties, all dead by multiple shots to the chest and head from a badly bloodied Mattock rifle. Overlooking the grisly scene, a young Lieutenant Shepard with a recently earned wound along his hairline, stood at attention and gave a silent salute to his old CO. "Don't let the sons of bitches get you down, Sir."

The tags felt heavier and heavier in his left hand.

_Several days later, Arcturus Station, Medical Office of Caroline Chakwas_

_I am cursed. The universe hates me. I will never, ever love again._ Caroline's thoughts echoed in her mind. Her eyes were red, raw and having gushed out more tears than Niagara Falls did on a typical day. A half-drunk bottle of liquor stood alone on her desk, her datapads and files having been scattered long ago around the room in fits of depression and grief. Next to the bottle sat two sets of Alliance dog tags. One belonged to her fiancée, the other to her childhood friend. _What about Jeffrey, he's still just a young man. What will he do?_ Jeff already had been told by FTL comms, long before Lieutenant Shepard had arrived in her office in full Alliance dress uniform, of his mother's death. From all accounts he was taking the loss extremely hard, although Shepard to his credit stayed with the two of them for over three hours, never giving in to Jeff's anger and remorse, and his eyes betrayed only the pain and sorrow that he felt from having lost his CO that was Caroline's fiancée.

Now, Caroline sat alone in her office, liquor running freely through her system, and the Carnifex handgun that had belonged to Peter now rested ominously close to the bottle, thermal clip and ammunition block locked and loaded. _It would be so easy_, Caroline mused. _Make the pain go away. What is the bloody point now?_

A knock at the door took her attention from the bottle and handgun which she quickly stowed in her desk drawer. _Who could be here at this time, it's 0300!_

"Enter!" She shouted, an edge creeping into her voice, ready to tear the lungs out of whoever dared interrupt her self-induced torture session. Instead of seeing some green Alliance marine or medical staffer, the young face of Jeffrey Moreau limped through the now open door.

"Auntie Caroline…" He choked out.

"Oh, Jeffrey. I'm sorry…it's just-" she stopped as the young man raised his hand, asking for silence.

"Auntie Caroline….do…..do you think I could call you 'Mom'?" Jeff choked out, hobbling closer to her, fresh tears welling under his eyes.

Caroline, for the countless time that day, felt fresh tears gush out from what seemed to be a bottomless well. Wordlessly, she opened her arms and Jeff Moreau dived into them, crying uncontrollably. Caroline rocked the young man back and forth, not even bothering to try and stop the sobs that were by now an unstoppable force….and yet, despite the grief, she couldn't help but smile slightly, as a new purpose dawned on her amiss the darkness that she felt. _Yes, this one is mine. Jeff….he is my son._

It was the start of a wonderful new relationship.


End file.
